


Lying About Me and You

by TheDamagedOne24



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU - rock band, Abandonment Issues, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Everything will be shit for a while before it gets better, F/M, Falling In Love, Grimm will eventually get his shit together and save Ichigo, Grimmjow is useless for a while, Ichi and Shiro Sold into Sexual Slavery, Ichigo has trust issues and cannot bring himself to let Grimmjow take care of him, Infidelity, Lies, M/M, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shiro is saved by Ulquiorra's love, Uke Ichigo/Seme Grimmjow, Unrequited Love, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDamagedOne24/pseuds/TheDamagedOne24
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki and his twin Shiro were sold into prostitution by their father at the age of 16. Now 20, they are both used to this life, and Ichigo has been convinced from the beginning that this is his retribution for his mother's death. Grimmjow Jaegerjaques is the lead singer of the band Espada - his girlfriend disappeared 9 months ago and he can't move on. On a rare night out with the band, these two men both have their lives changed forever and set into motion a crazy chain of events. Main pairing GrimmIchi with side pairings.





	1. Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I said I would have this posted sometime last week, but it took me until now to get something I liked worked out. This idea just popped into my head, and it is heavily inspired by the new Plain White T's album, Parallel Universe. If you have not heard it, you should go listen to it. ^_^ 
> 
> Warnings for the whole of the work: prostitution, rape/non-con, angst, hurt/comfort, infidelity, lies, yaoi - if any of this is not your cup of tea, then I suggest you go elsewhere. 
> 
> Anyway, here's the disclaimer for this work: I don't own anything related to Bleach. The whole of it belongs to Tite Kubo. But, if he could give me Grimmjow, I'd be happy! XD

Cyan eyes slowly cracked open, sharpening almost instantly to gaze at the clock on the nightstand. It was already quarter after eleven. That meant he was already late. His eyes closed again and he took a deep breath, telling himself he had to get up, he _had_ to keep going. He couldn’t keep living in the past and refusing to move forward. Unfortunately, that was so much easier said than done.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques slowly sat up in bed and stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly and listening to his joints pop. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and just sat there for a moment. He looked over at the framed photo on his nightstand and stared into teal green eyes set into a face that he could and would _never_ forget.

He shook his head to get rid of the morose thoughts that wanted to plague him, and got up to get ready for the day. Being as he was already late for the meeting with his bandmates, he was in no hurry. Especially since he knew they were just going to bitch at him again, since he was always late now. He used to be on time or even early to everything; he also used to be a bit more alive. As it stood now, he knew he wasn’t living, but he couldn’t bring himself to _care_. Nothing had meaning anymore without _her_.

Fuck.

Now his thoughts were consumed with her. Where was she? What had happened? She couldn’t really be dead like everyone assumed. If she had died, he would _know_. There had to be a reason she disappeared nine months ago without a trace.

He had searched for her endlessly for over four months. But, his friends and bandmates had to make him stop. They couldn’t all put their lives on hold any longer, and he had an obligation to fulfill and he knew it. He had been lucky that they had all stood by him as long as they had. Finally, they all put their foot down and told him enough was enough. It hurt like hell to hear, but in the end of everything, he knew they were right. He had to at least keep going, even if he knew he couldn’t move _forward_.

It just sucked. He didn’t care about _anything_ anymore, not even himself – not even his band he had started from nothing four years ago. He was twenty-two and he might as well have been eighty the way he was acting – refusing to go out and/or hang out with anyone. He spent all of his time alone, wallowing in his self-pity and depressing thoughts and memories. All he wanted was to see her again – hear her voice, see her smile, hold her in his arms – just _one more time_.

He missed everything that was her. Her face. Her olive skin. Her golden blonde locks that were always in a state of controlled chaos that fit her perfectly. Her soft body that he could almost feel if he closed his eyes. Her velvety voice that was deeper than other women he knew, but was the perfect pitch in his ears. Everything about her was perfect in his eyes.

He shook his head again and blew out a frustrated breath. It was time to get up and get ready for the day. He stood up and decided to jump in the shower before anything else. He used his ocean breeze scented shampoo and conditioner, lathering his sky blue locks and leaning his head back and just letting the water run over him as he rinsed it out. As he scrubbed his body and rinsed all the suds off and down the drain, he sighed in bliss at the relaxing feeling.

Climbing out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his hips and looked at himself in the mirror. He knew he was a damn fine specimen of a man. From his unconventional colored hair, to his gorgeous stormy blue eyes, set into a finely chiseled face, with a straight nose, sharp jawline and a killer smile, he knew he looked good. He had a well-defined chest, with a cut six-pack and deep v-lines cutting in from his hips towards his groin. This all was held up on two thick trunks for legs, the muscles bulging as he moved about the room.

He smirked at himself in the mirror – he knew he was every woman’s wet dream. Hell, he was probably most guys’ wet dream as well, and he was fine with that. It was not something that he advertised, but Grimmjow was not ashamed to say that he was attracted to both men and women. Now, mind you, no one had caught his eye since before Hal, especially not any dudes. The ones who threw themselves at him just weren’t his type, they were way too clingy and he was pretty sure they only wanted him for what he could provide them with. I mean, come on, he was Grimmjow Jaegerjaques – the lead singer of Espada! _Of course_ they would do anything to get into his bed, and even more importantly, his lifestyle.

He grunted and walked into the closet to pick out his clothes for the day. He settled on some dark straight leg jeans, hugging his ass and thighs in all the right places, without being _too_ tight, and a charcoal grey long sleeved V-neck shirt that clung to his pecs and showed off everything he had to offer. Even if he didn’t want to move on and get back out there, he definitely had a standard to live up to and would never leave his place looking anything less than perfect. He finished the look off with some black converse, and threw on his trademark black leather jacket.

He walked out of his condo and took the elevator down to the parking garage, bypassing the lobby and all the onlookers sure to be waiting to gawk at him.

The blue haired devil pulled out his keys and climbed into his baby blue 1967 Shelby GT Mustang. He grinned as he started it up and listened to the V8 purr. He slowly backed out of his parking space, then quickly threw it into drive and flew out of the parking garage, tires squealing as he recklessly pulled out in front of traffic and sped towards his destination – Hueco Mundo Records.

* * *

The green haired keyboardist and backup singer sat on the couch in the recording studio they always met in, staring at her lap and twisting her fingers together, fidgeting in her nervousness at the upcoming meeting. Grimmjow was Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck’s little half-brother and she loved him dearly. She was only a year older than he was, but that didn’t stop her from playing the big sister role wholeheartedly. She just wanted what was best for him, and that meant that he had to get a move on and _live_ again, dammit.

She looked up as her boyfriend of four years, twenty-four year old guitarist Nnoitra Gilga, sank down on the couch next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Hey Babe, ya okay?” He stared down into her wheat grey eyes and tried his best to offer some form of comfort, even though he knew he was normally shit at doing that.

Nel tried her hardest to smile up at him, but it really looked like more of a grimace. “I…I don’t know. I can’t stand to see him like this anymore, Nnoi. He’s got to move on. I mean, it’s like being around a zombie. He just doesn’t do _anything_.” She sighed heavily and shook her head, sniffing as her eyes filled with tears. “I miss Hal too, but I can’t watch Grimm slowly kill himself over her.”

Her eyes shot up at the door opened and then her shoulders slumped in disappointment when the person who walked in was Ulquiorra Cifer, the band’s twenty-five year old bassist. He stared at the pair stoically and nodded, taking a seat in the corner and waiting for the others to arrive so they could get this over with.

The door opened again and a man with shaggy brown hair and a permanent five o’clock shadow dragged himself into the room and slumped down in the bean bag chair that was specifically bought just for him. Coyote Stark, twenty-six and the band’s drummer, laid his head back and closed his eyes. “Why are we doing this again?” He mumbled out as he tried not to fall asleep.

Ulquiorra tch’d and shook his head. “Lazy ass,” he muttered fondly and his lipped twitched as though fighting a smirk.

Nel chuckled softly and sniffled again, fighting back her tears. “We’re doing this because Grimm is my little brother and I can’t watch him continue to barely _exist_ anymore. I want my brother back!” Her voice raised as she stood up, fists clenching at her side. “He’s not the Grimm I know anymore, and I can’t stand it!” Her eyes widened as she realized another presence had joined them in the room during her rant. “G-Grimm…” She stared into his eyes, getting lost in the emotions swirling in them, knowing he realized what was happening and was none too happy with it.

The lead singer just frowned at his sister and rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. “So, this is what this bullshit meeting is all ‘bout? I ain’t got time fer this shit.” He turned to leave, and stopped short as he felt a hand wrapped about his wrist. He narrowed his eyes and glared over his shoulder, looking down at the green haired woman. “ _What_.”

Nel swallowed nervously and pulled gently on his wrist and looked at him pleadingly. “Grimm, _please_. Just hear us out. We only want what’s best for you. We miss you. **_I_** miss you.”

Grimmjow sighed and dropped his head back, staring up at the ceiling. “Really, Nel? What do ya want from me? I can’t just…let it go. Ya of all people should know that.”

She frowned and shook her head. “I get it, Grimm. I miss Hal too, we _all_ do. But, I can’t stand by and lose you too! I love you, please just sit down and hear us out.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only about thirty seconds, before Grimmjow finally nodded and slumped down in a chair in the room. He look expectantly at each of them in turn and then threw his hands up, “Well, ya all wanna talk so bad, go ahead and talk!”

Ulquiorra cleared his throat and drew the blunette’s sharp eyes to him. “While I understand your, um, emotional attachment to that woman, she’s gone now. You can’t keep chasing her ghost, Grimm. You have to let it go.”

Grimmjow snarled and rose from his seat, growling low in his chest. “Ya fuckin’ bastard!” He lunged for the stoic raven and lifted him by the collar before promptly being shoved against the wall himself by the lazy brunette who no one even saw move.

He glared up at Stark for all he was worth, before his shoulders slumped and he let his head drop to avoid eye contact. He blew out a frustrated breath and mumbled out, “‘M sorry.” He fisted his shirt right above his heart, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid showing the pain and torment in them. “It just… _hurts_. And I can’t get it to stop.”

Stark nodded and slowly released him. “‘S gonna be alright, man. We’re gonna getcha through it.” He clasped Grimmjow’s shoulder and waited for him to make eye contact before asking him, “Ya good?”

The blunette nodded and visibly deflated, slumping back down in his chair. He looked up as his sister spoke up again. “Um, Grimm…I have a request.” Blue eyes narrowed and he nodded curtly, waiting for her to continue. “Come out with us tonight.”

_Was she fucking serious?!_

He blinked and stared at her incredulously. “Say what?” She smiled at him hopefully, waiting for him to actually acknowledge what she had said. “Yer fuckin’ kiddin’, right?”

Nel shook her head emphatically, showing her little brother how serious she was. She stood up from the couch again and pulled him out of his chair, hugging him tightly, nearly smothering him in her chest and she yanked his head down to nuzzle against his temple. “C’mon, _otouto_ , pleeeeeeease??” She knew he would never refuse her when she used that word and begged so shamelessly.

The lead singer pulled back out of the embrace and shrugged. “Will it get all of ya off my ass if I go?” He looked around the room as each of them nodded in return. “Fine. But I ain’t goin’ out again after this! Ya only get the one time and then I’m done!”

“Of course, of course! We’ll make sure it’s worth your while, I promise!” Nel’s smile lit up the room it was so blinding.

Grimmjow chuckled fondly to himself at his sister’s antics. “Where are ya draggin’ me to? ‘Cause I know ya already got it all planned out and didn’t wait fer me to say yes.”

The green haired woman beamed and stated with absolute certainty, “Las Noches! It’s the new place to be that just opened last month. You’ll love it, I just know it! And before you ask, I already got us VIP reserved so you don’t have to deal with everyone throwing themselves at you. Or rather, so that I don’t have to deal with watching all those people throwing themselves at you.” She chuckled slightly as she sat back down and leaned back against Nnoitra, relaxing in his embrace again.

He nodded before thinking for a moment. “Alright. Since we’re all here an’ everythin’, we might as well practice, yeah?”

They all nodded and headed to the recording studio room to work on some new songs they had been struggling with writing lately. Grimmjow was the one who had a way with words, and since he had been out of commission for so long, the rest really tried, but it just wasn’t the same. They all hoped that this night out would rekindle the blunette’s drive to write again.

* * *

Grimmjow looked himself over in the mirror, judging whether his appearance was acceptable in order to be seen in public or not. He had on his favorite pair of faded blue jeans that was _just_ tight enough on his ass and a white wife beater that outlined his chest and abs just right. On top of that, he wore an open black plaid pearl snap shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He donned his low top black converse again, those being his favorite kicks. He nodded in approval and stood there for a moment, contemplating whether or not to put on cologne. In the end, he decided not to, not wanting to go out of his way to impress anyone, and he quite liked his natural smell, a mixture of the desert and the ocean, only enhanced by the shampoo and body wash he used. He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, haphazardly styling into its usual disarray, trying without really trying.

He had a feeling he would be indulging more than would be safe to operate his car this evening, so he texted Stark, asking for a ride so that he didn’t have to worry about it. This was also part of his strategy to make sure he didn’t bring anyone home with him, or go home with anyone else. Stark texted back an affirmative and let him know he’d be by shortly to collect him for their “group bonding” as the lazy man had taken to calling it. Grimmjow chuckled to himself and decided to check online to see what he could find out about this _Las Noches_ place. He had heard of a place opening up a few weeks ago, but of course, he hadn’t cared to look into it.

He pulled up the reviews on his phone and noticed that everyone who had commented had mentioned how reasonable the drinks were and that the entertainment was the best around. Entertainment? He shrugged, guessing that maybe they employed dancers of some kind. He knew Nel would never actively decide to go to a strip club, so it definitely wasn’t that kind of place, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what kind of entertainment this could possibly be.

The blunette smirked slightly, hoping that perhaps there were dancers of some kind – he could definitely do with the distraction of watching some eye candy shaking their asses. He was broken out of his reverie when his phone buzzed again, alerting him that Stark had arrived and was waiting downstairs in his Porsche 911 Roadster.

He jogged through the lobby and hopped in the car, suddenly feeling much more optimistic about this evening that he had earlier in the day. He nodded at his designated driver for the evening and they fist-bumped, no words being necessary to relay his gratitude to the drummer.

* * *

They arrived at the club around 45 minutes later, due to both traffic and the fact that the club was on the outskirts of the city. LA was not small (obviously), but fortunately Stark had a lead foot, just like Grimmjow did, and he was able to weave in and out of traffic effectively to get them there in a decent amount of time.

Once they arrived, they parked in a space that had been predesignated for them, Nel having called ahead to make sure they had their cars at the ready whenever they were ready to go. She knew she was really pushing her brother by getting him to come out with them, which is why she made sure that he could leave any time he wanted. She didn’t want him to resent her; she really wanted him to enjoy himself, maybe let loose a little and perhaps take his mind off of _her_ for more than five minutes.

She was already in the VIP section upstairs with Nnoitra and Ulquiorra when Stark and Grimmjow arrived. All the groupies downstairs were staring and trying to catch the blunette’s attention, but he simply strutted his way through the crowd, heading directly for the stairs with Stark on his heels.

As he arrived upstairs, he saw that they had their own bar with a single cocktail waitress ready to wait on them. She smiled brightly, twirling one of her black pigtails and sashayed up to him shamelessly. He noticed the way her shirt plunged down to the middle of her sternum, showing off way more cleavage than necessary to get anyone’s attention; he also took notice of her shamelessly short skirt that had her ass completely hanging out in the breeze, the front barely covering up her naughty bits. “Hey stud, what can I getcha?” She tried to sound sexy and ran a finger down his chest, but he just stared down her, rolling his eyes as she merely sounded sleazy and like a true whore.

 _If only he knew just how right he was with that assumption_.

He sighed and decided to just let it slide, trying his best to not have a sarcastic retort for the little strumpet. “Jack and coke, and make it a double.” He brushed past her and sat on the couch next to his sister and grinned at her. “Ya happy?” She nodded enthusiastically and hugged him tightly. The little whore flipped her pigtail over her shoulder and stomped off, assuming that the blunette was not interested, which he was not.

He rolled his shoulders and looked up at Stark though his bangs. “Whatcha lookin’ at, Ol’ Man?” The lazy brunette rolled his neck and looked at Grimmjow over his shoulder, grinning. “Just takin’ in the sweet entertainment.”

The blunette raised an eyebrow and stood up, making his way across the floor to stand next to the drummer, leaning on his forearms on the balcony railing. He trailed his gaze across the floor, taking in all the writhing, sweaty bodies. He absentmindedly reached his hand out and accepted his drink from the waitress, still looking down and searching for something – what, he was wasn’t sure yet, but he just had this feeling he was going to find it.

 _There_.

His eyes widened slightly and he swallowed a gulp of his drink, unable to tear his gaze away. He stared, enraptured, as he watched the lithe body moving to the music.

He thought to himself that he may very well have found his conquest for the evening, his smirk quickly morphing into an absolutely feral grin, showcasing his canines.

Game time.


	2. First Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down! So yeah, another chapter out fairly quickly. However, please don't expect this to happen too terribly often, as I can't guarantee it. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Eyes the color of melted chocolate cracked open, unwilling to greet the day with any sort of enthusiasm. He was tired; last night had been a long one. But, there was nothing to be done about it. This was his destiny and his retribution – in short, he deserved everything he got. At least, that’s the boy with hair as orange as a carrot believed. His friends and “co-workers” didn’t agree – the boy was as sweet as an angel and a fierce protector; he deserved to be cherished, but life had dealt him a shitty hand – and he persevered. The one most adamant that he didn’t deserve this was asleep on the crappy mattress next to his, drool collecting on his pillow.

Ichigo Kurosaki rolled his neck and felt the joints pop, letting out a small satisfied sigh. He sat up and stretched his legs out over the side of the mattress, resting his heels on the floor, as the mattress only had him eight inches off the floor to begin with. He blinked sleepily and ran his fingers through his waist-length orange hair, untangling it as much as he was able to.

He looked over his shoulder at his twin, his mirror image in negative. Where Ichigo was tan with dark eyes and hair, Shiro was albino with white hair. His eyes were also inverted, golden irises with black sclera. His nails were painted black and his tongue was a deep blue, from all of the blue raspberry suckers that he constantly kept with him. The orangette teased his brother about it constantly, saying that he should request his payment in suckers instead of actual money, since that was what he spent all his money on anyway.

He smiled tenderly and leaned over to run his fingers through the shoulder-length white hair, relishing in the feeling of just how soft it was. He never wanted his brother to lead this kind of life, but Shiro was of the same mind, refusing to let Ichigo do this alone. The albino loved his little brother and couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him to fend for himself. Ichigo was protective, but Shiro was on a whole other level all his own when it came to the orangette.

Just as he was losing himself in his thoughts of how much he loved his brother and how grateful he was to have him stick with him in this, those inverted eyes blinked open and stared up at him. “Yo King, what time is it?” The watery voice greeted him and he looked over at the clock on the floor.

“It’s four o’clock. We gotta get up if we’re gonna get ready and make it on time. Boss said last night that we got some VIPs coming in tonight and you know he’s gonna want us there early to make sure everything’s good to go. So, get up!” He slapped his brother’s thigh playfully and chuckled as he jumped up and out of the way of Shiro’s reach.

“Get back ‘ere ya little shit!” The albino leaped up and tackled the smaller twin back onto the mattress, pinning him easily. It was unspoken between the two of them, as Shiro knew it was a sore spot for the orangette, but he could _always_ overpower his brother. Ichigo was a fiery little thing, but that was just it – he was little. His lithe, 5’6” frame was no match for Shiro’s 5’11”. The albino also had more muscle mass than the little spitfire, so he used that to his advantage any time he could. Shiro was still lithe-looking, but he was solid, whereas Ichigo was lithe, bordering on downright skinny-looking. Shiro was stockier in his upper body and Ichigo was all legs. His legs seemed to go for miles and they were an advantage for him, as he was definitely faster than most, so if he needed to get out of a dodgy situation, he could – _most_ of the time.

Ichigo huffed out an angry breath, crossing his arms and staring up at Shiro in annoyance as the latter sat on his stomach to hold him down. “Shiroooooooo! Lemme up!” He whined and wriggled around, trying to get loose.

His pale copy smirked down at him and lifted an eyebrow. “An’ why should I? I mean, ya started it, so it ain’t like it’s ma fault.” He grinned mischievously before rolling off his twin and subsequently helping him to his feet.

Ichigo looked up at him and put his hands on his hips. “Ugh! Come on, lazy ass! I already told you we have to get ready. Come here and let me fix your hair.” He gripped a pale wrist and dragged his brother behind him into the bathroom. Shiro just rolled his eyes with a fond smile stretched across his face as he grabbed a sucker and popped it into his mouth before being hauled across the room.

* * *

Ten minutes later, snow white hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his neck and landed just over the back of his collar. He watched as Ichigo proceeded to brush his own hair with the ultimate care, taking his time to make sure there were no tangles and that it flowed smoothly from the crown of his head down to the top of his butt. Golden eyes watched as the orange hair started to shine look even more beautiful than it already did. They didn’t have much, but Ichigo had two prized possessions – his journal and his hair. Shiro only had one prized possession – Ichigo. He _hated_ what his twin was doing, but he understood that he couldn’t make him stop. Their father is the one who did this to him, and nothing anyone could say would convince him that it was wrong.

Ichigo was a prostitute.

And Shiro couldn’t stand it. Isshin Kurosaki had damned his son and sold him to a man named Muramasa when he was only sixteen years old. That was four years ago, and Shiro had followed right after him, refusing to let Ichigo leave him behind. However, Shiro had proven that he was too volatile and unpredictable to be able to handle the “clientele”, so he was positioned as a bodyguard/bouncer at one of the man’s many clubs. He took the job to be able to keep an eye on Ichigo and ensure that he didn’t leave with any men that were too shady, but that was hard to do when the men he was leaving with knew they were buying his time for the evening.

There had been quite a few instances where Ichigo had gotten in a bit over his head, but he was able to get out of it nearly every time. The few times he hadn’t though, Shiro had nearly lost his mind. When Ichigo returned to their shitty little one bedroom apartment with a black eye and some bruised ribs, his older twin was out for blood. The orangette had barely managed to stop him from hunting down the one responsible and killing him, but he had stopped him. He simply shook his head and told him that “it comes with the job”. He hated to see his little brother like that, but he guessed that he couldn’t say anything to stop him, so he just promised himself that he’d keep a better eye on him.

Now, the reason behind Isshin selling his son was simple – he was beautiful, and Isshin was desperate. Men stared at Ichigo everywhere he went. Isshin was in over his head with bills, but normally that would not have been enough to make the Kurosaki patriarch desperate. The problem was that the man hadn’t been able to keep a steady job since his wife had been murdered when the boys were eight. He drank and lazed about the house, wallowing in his depression. He couldn’t bring himself to go on without Masaki.

One day, he noticed the stares his son got. Isshin loved his boys, he really did. But, he couldn’t bring himself to turn it down when he had been approached by Muramasa. The man had cornered him after the boys went to school one day, and he had caved. When he was offered all of that money – it was enough to pay off the house and live comfortably for _years_ if not _decades_ – he couldn’t bring himself to say no. He knew it was wrong, but a small part of him would always blame the boy for him losing the love of his life.

* * *

Ichigo could remember that day like it was yesterday. He and his mother had been walking home from the grocery store, minding their own business. He was old enough now to go with her and really be of help, so he was carrying the two bags of groceries for her. He beamed up at her as they walked. She was so beautiful – he had gotten his hair and his freckles from her, and even though he got picked on for it, he never regretted his hair color because it was the same as hers.

They were only four blocks from home when it happened. A pair of men had been following them for a few minutes, and they had their eyes on her purse. She was a doctor’s wife, as most people in town knew, so they knew she had money. They snuck up behind the mother and son and grabbed her from behind. Ichigo dropped the bags as he heard her gasp and turned around to see a man with a knife at her throat. “M-Mommy! Leave her alone!” He glared up at the man and stepped towards them.

The other man suddenly appeared and snatched him up from behind, lifting him into the air. “Let me go! L-Leave my mommy alone!” He struggled furiously and kicked his legs for all he was worth, but he couldn’t get free. He had to get free, because he had to protect her – that’s what his name meant, after all.

The man behind Masaki pressed the knife into her neck and Ichigo watched in horror as a trickle of blood slid down her neck. His mother was going to die if he didn’t do something! However, she was so beautiful and brave – all she did was smile at him and do her best to reassure him. “Everything going to be ok sweetheart. Just calm down.” She then cut her eyes to the man over her shoulder and said quietly, “Please…take my purse and anything else you want, but leave my boy alone.”

The man chuckled and told her, “Oh, we’re gonna take ya money alright. But ya know, we can’t leave any witnesses.” Her eyes widened and she sucked in a breath. She had to think quickly to save his life.

Suddenly, Ichigo opened his mouth and bit down hard on the man’s arm that was hugged around his chest. The man shouted and dropped him. “You little shit! I’ll kill you!”

Masaki did the only thing she could think of. She reared her head back and heard the sickening crack of the man’s nose breaking. “YOU STUPID BITCH!” He shouted as he held his nose, blood flowing between his fingers.

“Ichigo RUN!!” His mind was spinning and he wasn’t sure of anything, but he heard his mother’s command and knew he had to obey. He took off and quickly outran the man whom he had bitten.

He hid behind a dumpster in an alley for a few minutes, before slowly peeking his head out. The coast was clear and he slowly and carefully headed back to where his mother had been. As he came around the corner and saw the bags of groceries on the ground, he saw something else – his mother’s body, laying in a pool of blood that was slowly growing.

“MOMMY!!!!” He sprinted to her and threw himself down next to her, running his hands over her face and sobbing hysterically. “M-Mommy, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please be okay!” He gasped as she slowly opened her eyes and smiled up at him.

“I love you, Ichigo. You’re such a good boy. You and Shiro have to take care of each other, okay? And you both have to take care of your daddy.” She lifted a hand and cradled the side of his face. “I love you so much, my darling baby boy.” As she breathed her last breath, her hand fell back down to the pavement.

He screamed and threw himself on her chest, smearing her blood all over himself as well. She had been stabbed nine times in the chest and stomach and left for dead. Ichigo clutched her clothes tightly and wailed brokenly, unable to tear himself away from her. The sky suddenly opened up and it began to pour down on him, but he didn’t even notice as his tears mixed in with the rain.

He had no idea how long he had been there, laying across her body, before he was being shaken, Isshin’s broken voice calling out to him to see if he was alive or not. He whimpered softly and slowly opened his eyes to look up at his father. “I…I’m s-s-sorry D-Daddy.” He croaked out, his throat raw from all of the screaming.

Isshin clutched him to his chest and stood up with him in his arms. It was then that Ichigo noticed all of the flashing lights. As he looked down and saw them draping a sheet over his mother’s body, he started to scream all over again. “NO!! NOOOOOO!!!! M-MOMMY!!” He struggled and kicked until Isshin nearly dropped him, and he ran over to her body and ripped the sheet off her, latching his arms around her neck.

They couldn’t get him off of her body and Isshin finally nodded at one of the paramedics. The woman slipped over to him silently and sedated him by putting a needle into the side of his arm. As the boy slumped down, unconscious, Isshin held him and jumped in the back of the ambulance.

Weeks passed, and Ichigo wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t sleep, and he even had all out panic attacks whenever it would rain. Isshin didn’t know what to do with him anymore, but luckily for him, Shiro was there. Shiro seemed to be the only one who could calm Ichigo down and get him to sleep, even if it was only for a few hours.

The boys became inseparable then, and it only continued as they got older. Thus, the reason behind why Shiro followed Ichigo when Isshin decided to sell him into this shitty life they had now.

* * *

Ichigo blinked and shook his head. He stared at himself in the mirror and sighed softly. Sometimes when he brushed his hair out, he thought of his mother. He had grown his hair out long, like hers had been. It was a small way to honor her memory.

He still hated himself for what he had done that day. Now, he knew realistically that an eight year old was no match for two grown men with weapons, but he couldn’t get past the fact that he had run off and left his mother to die. Sure, she had told him to run, but he shouldn’t have done it. He had just been so scared that he hadn’t thought twice when he heard her shout for him to run.

He knew that he should move past it, but he didn’t think that would ever be possible. He was guilty of the ultimate sin and he let that beautiful woman die because of him. He knew his father hated him. He also knew he deserved every single bit of that hatred, which is why when Isshin informed him that he had been sold to Muramasa, he didn’t question it for a single second. He simply nodded, grabbed his journal and walked downstairs to wait for the man to pick him up.

Shiro had gone ape shit when he gotten home and Ichigo was gone. He had lunged at Isshin and put him in a chokehold until the man had admitted what he had done. The albino had socked him, giving him a black eye and a broken nose before he stormed out of the house and straight into the man’s club, demanding to see his brother.

As the night drew on, it became obvious that Shiro was not going to leave, so Muramasa offered him a deal. He would take him on as a bodyguard/bouncer for his clubs, and in turn, he was able to keep an eye on Ichigo. The snow haired boy quickly agreed to anything that would let him see his smaller twin and he rejoiced when Ichigo was brought downstairs to see him. Ever since that night, they had once again been inseparable.

As Ichigo deemed his hair done, he turned to leave the bathroom only to catch Shiro staring at his hair. He blushed slightly in embarrassment, and looked up at his brother. “Does it look okay?” The albino nodded and held a few strands between his fingers, smirking.

“Looks great, Ichi. Ya know ya got the mos’ beautiful hair in the world.”

The orangette nodded and smiled sadly. “That’s because it’s Mom’s hair.”

The boys stared at each other for a few more minutes before hugging each other tightly, each one feeling a bit emotional at the mention of Masaki.

Shiro pulled back and nodded solemnly. “A’ight King, get yer clothes on already. Ya know we gotta get a move on ta get ta the club on time.”

Ichigo nodded and quickly got dressed in his “work” clothes. He slipped into some black leather shorts that barely covered his supple ass, forgoing the underwear, as it wasn’t really necessary in his line of work – not like the shorts were gonna stay on once he started “working” anyway. He pulled out his favorite tank top – it was a beautiful cerulean blue, one of his favorite colors. As he pulled it over his head, he smiled and ran his fingers over the fabric that barely covered his stomach. It was soft to the touch because it was so old and he wore it frequently. It left nothing to the imagination as you could see the muscles bunch and relax as he moved around the room looking for his shoes.

He picked out a pair of knee-high lace up combat boots, still masculine, but with a slight feminine touch. As he laced them up, he looked up at Shiro and chuckled. His brother was dressed as always in a loose t-shirt and a pair of worn blue jeans, along with an orange pair of worn out Converse. While Ichigo adored blue, Shiro loved orange because of both his mother and his brother’s hair.

They nodded to each other and proceeded to head downstairs. They walked along the street to the newest club in Muramasa’s collection – Las Noches. Shiro had made his little brother wear a hoodie to cover his provocative clothing until they got to the club. He knew Ichigo didn’t care about the stares he received, as he had been getting them for most of his life, but Shiro cared. He didn’t want anyone looking at his brother, but he knew that would never happen. However, that wouldn’t stop him from trying to keep it from happening constantly.

* * *

It was time for the club to open, but Ichigo and Shiro had been called to the boss’s office just after the doors had opened. The orangette had his usual scowl on his face, brows pulled together, wondering why the hell he was in here instead of on the floor if the doors were open and there were customers. He was missing out on money! And he needed it if he was ever going to get himself and his brother out of their shitty apartment.

“Ah, the Kurosakis. Hello boys.” Muramasa greeted them from behind his desk, swiveling around in his chair to face them. They twins nodded in response.

“What can we do fer ya, Mr. Boss Man?” Shiro drawled out, his wicked smirk plastered on his face. He hated everything this man stood for, but he dealt with him for Ichigo’s sake.

Muramasa Kuchiki was a tall, thin man with pale skin and shaggy, dark brown hair, with two bangs crossing over the bridge of his nose. His turquoise eyes had a ring of purple around them, and his nails were unusually long for a man. He was dressed in his standard long white coat with the thick fur-lined collar. He also had his customary purple scarf and ruby broach fastened around his neck.

He smiled at the twins. He liked the boys, he really did. Ichigo was his highest earning worker, male or female, so he valued him above all others. He liked Shiro too, due to his loyalty to his brother. The boy had followed the orangette willingly into this life, not being forced into it in the slightest. He saw the love he had for his younger twin and he truly admired that.

“Well, boys, I believe you already know this, but we have some VIPs joining us in a bit. I want you to make sure you put on an extra good show, Ichigo. I’m counting on you, alright?”

The carrot-top nodded and raised an eyebrow. “Who is it, sir? I mean, if you can tell me, that is.” He knew that some people had an aversion to advertising their presence in this club, but that didn’t mean that these people did.

Muramasa nodded, “Have you ever heard of the band, Espada? They will all be joining us tonight, along with their manager and producer, I believe.”

Ichigo’s eyes widened and he nodded. He had heard of them, but didn’t really follow the media all that much. After all, he and Shiro didn’t own a TV, let alone a phone. He didn’t even know any of their songs, and he definitely didn’t know what they looked like, so he shrugged it off and figured he would just dance his best and let it go from there. If anything was meant to happen, it would.

Muramasa smirked. “Well, it just so happens their lead singer is a bit down in the dumps, and this little trip is meant to make him feel better. So, that’s where you come in, my little Angel.” He stood up and walked around the desk, walking up to Ichigo. As he reached him, he ran his fingers through the long, silky tresses in front of him. The boy smiled softly and nodded.

“Yes sir. I’ll do my best to make him happy should I be given the chance.” Ichigo stared up at Muramasa, waiting for any additional instructions, almost looking like a puppy looking to be rewarded for good behavior.

Now, Shiro was not as naïve as his brother. His lip lifted in a snarl as he thought of the blue haired lead singer of the aforementioned band. He was sure the bastard was nothing but a rich playboy who was looking for an easy lay. If he had any control over it, he was going to make sure that his brother went nowhere near the man.

Muramasa nodded and smiled down at the boy. “That’s all I ask. You’re dismissed. Have a pleasant evening, boys.”

* * *

As Ichigo made his way down the stairs from the boss’s office and back to the main floor of the club, he noticed a commotion over at the entrance. He watched as two men walked in and everyone seemed to lose their shit. He figured this must be the VIPs his boss had told him about.

His eyes widened and he watched, enraptured, as the one with blue hair swaggered his way across the dance floor and up the stairs to the VIP section. He sighed as he saw Loly’s trademark pigtails over the railing of the balcony. _Well, there goes that. She’ll be all over that all night_.

He shrugged and decided he might as well get started dancing. He shook out his arms and legs, loosening himself up. As he sauntered across the dance floor, he noticed two of his co-workers that he considered to be his friends, Yylfordt and Shuuhei, saving him a place between them against the main wall where the spotlights shone.

He smiled and slipped through the crowd quickly, coming up in between his friends and nodding at them. They both nodded in turn and readied themselves for the next song to begin. As the lilting tones began softly flowing through the speakers, Ichigo was pumped up. This was one of his favorite songs, and he was more than ready to get this night started.

Of course, the boys with him knew this already, and they had danced to this song with the orangette many times before, so they knew this dance by heart and they were perfectly in sync.

As the base line came in and the lyrics started, the three boys faced the wall and threw their hands above their heads. They then threw their hips to the right and then the left, matching the beat of the bass perfectly. Ichigo couldn’t help himself, and started to sing along to the song, his voice matching the pitch perfectly.

_She paints her fingers with a close precision_

_He starts to notice empty bottles of gin_

_And takes a moment to assess the sins she’s paid for_

As the word _assess_ came through, Ichigo dropped down and bounced before bringing himself back up again. He smirked slightly as he heard the whoops and hollers from the crowd that was all focused on the three boys now.

_A lonely speaker in a conversation_

_Her words were swimming through his ears again_

_There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for_

He flipped around and faced his rapt audience. As he sang about tasting what you’ve paid for, he dropped down again, running his hand over his crotch and licking his lips. As he looked up at the balcony, chocolate brown met electric blue and he winked saucily. His grin widened as he saw the blunette gulp slightly at the sight he was presented with.

_Say what you mean_

_Tell me I'm right_

_And let the sun rain down on me_

_Give me a sign_

_I wanna believe_

 

_Whoa, Mona Lisa_

_You're guaranteed to run this town_

_Whoa, Mona Lisa_

_I'd pay to see you frown_

He was fully enjoying himself now, knowing the handsome blue haired man was watching him. He kept sparing quick glances up to the balcony, ensuring he still had the man’s full attention. He spun around quickly and planted his hands on the wall, getting ready for the next verse.

_He senses something, call it desperation_

_Another dollar, another day_

_And if she had the proper words to say_

_She would tell him_

_But she'd have nothing left to sell him_

As the lyrics started up again, he threw his head back and started to twerk for all he was worth. He bounced and shook his ass, loving the thought of just how many people he was managing to turn on with his little performance.

_Say what you mean_

_Tell me I'm right_

_And let the sun rain down on me_

_Give me a sign_

_I wanna believe_

 

_Whoa, Mona Lisa_

_You're guaranteed to run this town_

_Whoa, Mona Lisa_

_I'd pay to see you frown_

He twirled again and looked at the boys on his left and right and they nodded. They knew what he wanted them to do. As he hit the first _whoa_ , he jumped up and slammed down into sideways splits, bouncing a few times on the floor. The crowd screamed and he ate up all the attention. Yylfordt and Shuuhei each leaned down and grabbed his feet and before the mass of people knew what to expect, the boys lifted him off the ground, holding him in the sideways splits as he belted out the words.

_Mona Lisa wear me out_

_Pleased to please ya_

_Mona Lisa wear me out_

The boys dropped him and he landed as gracefully as a cat, standing up and swaying his body to the music. He rolled his body from his chest down to his groin as the words _pleased to please ya_ came through. He was truly enjoying the spotlights focused on him and he drifted away a bit, imagining this being a completely different setting.

_Say what you mean_

_Tell me I'm right_

_And let the sun rain down on me_

_Give me a sign_

_I want to believe_

 

_Whoa, Mona Lisa_

_You're guaranteed to run this town_

_Whoa, Mona Lisa_

_I'd pay to see you frown_

He sang his heart out, moving in sync with the boys on either side of him, tossing his hair over his shoulder and smiling as he sang. He prepared himself for the end of the song and nodded his head to the beat.

_Say what you mean_

_Tell me I'm right_

_And let the sun rain down on me_

_Give me a sign_

_I want to believe_

 

_T_ _here's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for_

He rolled his body one last time on the last line of the song and put his arms out, letting his head fall forward as the spotlights shut off. As soon as the house lights came back up, the throng of people screamed and applauded as loud as possible. He merely smiled and nodded, then clasped each of his hands on Yylfordt’s and Shuuhei’s shoulders. “Thanks!” He yelled to them both over the crowd. They both smiled back and nodded, then went their own ways through the dance floor.

Ichigo made his way over to the bar and grinned at the bartender, who was also a friend. “Hey Renji, can I get a water please?” He panted slightly as he ordered the drink and brushed his hair over his shoulder.

The man with crimson hair and a body full of tattoos nodded and laughed. “Sure thing, Ichi! Nice little show ya put on there.” He ran his eyes over the boy’s body and smirked slightly as he blushed. “Aww, the little berry’s blushing. Ya know, that really brings out your freckles. Such a cute little berry boy.”

Instantly the infamous scowl was back and the orange brows were drawn together. “Shut up, pineapple head! You stupid bastard!” His ears had even turned red in his embarrassment, but Renji was not apologetic at all. In fact, he continued to laugh.

“Ya know, I think ya definitely got at least one new admirer out of that little dance.” When Ichigo cocked his head to the side in confusion, Renji tipped his head up and nodded up to the balcony.

The blush returned full force when Ichigo turned around and saw the gorgeous blunette staring at him. That look was one he knew very well. However, Ichigo felt inclined to play a bit tonight, and he wasn’t going to give in so easily. He wanted the man to approach him, but he didn’t want to seem too eager about it.

He shrugged at Renji and then winked. “What can I say? I am irresistible after all.” As he walked away, swinging his hips, he heard Renji’s loud guffaw echo behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will they meet face to face next time? Who knows? 
> 
> Stay tuned for the next installment. 
> 
> Also, disclaimer - the song in the chapter obviously does not belong to me. It is "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" by Panic! At the Disco 
> 
> See you all for the next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave behind any thoughts and/or suggestions. This is another work that is un-beta'd, so please be kind if you find grammatical errors! 
> 
> See you for the next chapter!


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